


Who You Shouldn't Call

by boonies



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki, JYJ - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boonies/pseuds/boonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DBSK as ghost-busters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who You Shouldn't Call

*

 

"What is the nature of your emergency."

 

"MY HOUSE IS ON FIRE," the woman screeches, signal crackling.

 

"You should hang up and dial 119," Junsu says, disconnecting her call. It takes him a moment to notice Yunho's glaring at him. "What? We don't fix fires."

 

"We do if they're ghost-related," Yunho chides, arms crossed.

 

Junsu thinks for a moment, realization dawning. "I'm sure... she'd call back if... Yeah. I'm sure she's fine, probably. Just her house is on fire."

 

Yunho kicks Junsu's chair, sending him spinning away from the desk. "Why are you manning the phones anyway? Where's Changmin?"

 

Junsu lowers his feet to stop the chair from spinning. He brings a shaky hand to his mouth, looking nauseated. He scoots back to the desk and manages, "Shower."

 

" _Again_?"

 

"He said he's trying to get the stench of weevils out of his hair?"

 

Yunho rubs the bridge of his nose.

 

"This is bullshit," he grumbles, striding across the prep room and climbing the stairs two at a time. "I'm not paying the fucking water bill if he's just gonna _live_ in the shower all week—"

 

"Yeah, _that's_ why you keep barging in on him, sure, the ~utilities," Junsu mutters under his breath, twirling a phone cord with menace.

 

"WHAT?" Yunho bellows, leaning down the banister.

 

"NOTHING."

 

*

 

 

"My blind date had two heads and nine tails," Yoochun brags, lathering up the van.

 

Jaejoong makes a face at a glob of innards sliding off the van's dented door and says, "Mine had a vagina with teeth."

 

Yoochun drops his sponge, horrified. "Okay, you win."

 

"Neither of us wins," Jaejoong sulks, hosing the innards off. "Maybe we just shouldn't date anyone."

 

Yoochun sighs, bending to pick an eyeball out of a tire tread. "You couldn't go a week."

 

"I could go _at least_ a month," Jaejoong challenges, aiming the spray at the van's slimy windows.

 

"I could go a year," Yoochun grins.

 

"I could go forever without the sexual tension," Changmin sniffs at the mess, consulting his clipboard. "Why aren't you done yet? We gotta roll out in, like, half an hour."

 

"You're welcome to take over," Yoochun offers, cheeks only a little pink.

 

"...you're doing awesome," Changmin says, retreating.

 

*

 

"The map is upside down."

 

"It's a fucking GPS," Yoochun snaps, cranky. "It auto-rotated."

 

"Find me the right address," Yunho demands, taking a hard left and careening down a narrow alleyway, "preferably before sunset."

 

The buildings around them bend together, darkening the sky. The clouds roll in, black and dense.

 

"I don't like this," Junsu whines, triple-checking his seat belt and his utility belt and his plasma ray. "It's Friday. The 13th. We're all gonna die."

 

Next to him, Changmin huffs. "Good thing you weren't around when we were coming up with our slogan."

 

Yoochun snorts, inspecting his net as the van pitches across a huge pothole. "We're All Gonna Die. WAGD. It sounds more like an animal shelter."

 

Jaejoong hides a laugh behind his hand.

 

"What?" Yunho asks.

 

"Because... WAGD," Yoochun gestures vaguely at his ass. "Like a tail... never mind."

 

"Take a left at the next dumpster," Changmin shouts over him, subverting the GPS.

 

"See, why can't you three be more like Changmin?" Yunho lectures, spinning the steering wheel like a lunatic and sending the van lurching downhill.

 

Cheeks dark, Changmin preens a little.

 

Junsu rolls his eyes so hard he momentarily looks possessed. "Okay. I'm actually ready to die now. Let's go."

 

The van hiccups to a stop before a decrepit old office building.

 

It's a big, bulky, ugly structure, lurking behind a _dead end_ roadblock and roughly a dozen _no trespassing_ signs. Not a single person's around. A single crow is pecking at a cigarette butt nearby.

 

Quietly, Yunho hops out of the van first, sliding its door aside and gathering equipment. The rest follow reluctantly, scanning the chilling set of graffiti decorating the facade.

 

The shrubbery by the entrance is all dead sticks and pigeon bones arranged across thick spider webs.

 

Yoochun takes a few involuntary steps backwards, accidentally pressing into Jaejoong.

 

Jaejoong pries him off with an amused grin. "So manly."

 

Yoochun rolls his eyes, lips curling. "Shut up."

 

"We'll take it floor by floor," Yunho interrupts, strapping approximately seven gadgets to his belt.

 

Junsu secretly peels one off and pockets it for himself.

 

No one really notices.

 

"Start with the basement," Changmin instructs, scrolling through his scanner. "They're paying us by the hour, so."

 

Yunho smiles at him so brightly the clouds practically disperse.

 

Roughly, Junsu pushes between them and stomps toward the main entrance. It's an old door, wood and metal and mostly hanging off its hinges, and it creaks shut behind Junsu's back the moment he crosses the threshold.

 

"NO THANK YOU!" he cries out desperately, covering his head with both arms. "I'M NOT READY."

 

Yunho kicks in the door, gun aimed, expression distressed.

 

Junsu sheepishly lowers his arms.

 

"What's rule number one," Yunho growls, holstering his gun.

 

"No carbs after midnight," Jaejoong says.

 

"No porn on Sundays," Yoochun frowns.

 

"Wait," Jaejoong makes a face, "I thought that was fourteen."

 

"No, fourteen is something about filing reports by email. Or something about fedora hats? The dishes?"

 

"Changmin," Yunho sighs.

 

Changmin mirrors his sigh. "Rule number one: never go alone."

 

Junsu purses his lips. "Sorry."

 

"Don't be sorry," Yunho says, "be safe."

 

Smiling, Junsu gives a quick happy nod and obediently glues himself to Yunho's side.

 

"Obviously, the elevators are out," Yunho says, scanning the pitch black hallway ahead. A rotted notice board is to his left and he pins a small solar light to it. The hallway's still dark as fuck.

 

"We'll take the stairs, so watch out for banshees," he adds. "You know. This time."

 

Yoochun rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah."

 

The stairs are hidden behind some creepy, crumbling alcove, and they descend slowly, Yunho first, shining a small generator into the basement's depths.

 

Focused, Jaejoong frowns at his scanner. "I'm not sensing any—"

 

A shadow skitters across the wall.

 

On alert, everyone pauses.

 

A low-pitched hum is starting somewhere below them.

 

And then the generator blows out, glass shattering in every direction.

 

"Watch your heads!" Yunho shouts before the air thickens to a dense, humid, soup-like consistency.

 

Several floating apparitions emerge from the darkness, misshapen and menacing.

 

"Son of a fucking _bitch_ ," Yoochun curses, missing a step and bowling Yunho and Changmin over. All three go sprawling into the basement.

 

Lightning-fast, one of the spirits grows a claw-like, transparent limb and aims at Jaejoong, slamming him into the wall and breaking the scanner.

 

Junsu's frozen in the middle.

 

He inhales in rapid succession, pawing at his utility belt, bangs poking into his eyes, sweat making him squint, and then a cold, clammy hand is caressing his face, singing into his ear, "Come and play with us."

 

So Junsu pulls out a lighter and flicks it until it flames up, strong and bright, and then tosses it in a random direction.

 

Apparently, it lands on a stack of cardboard boxes beneath the stairwell and the whole basement is kinda on fire before Junsu can even blink.

 

"THANKS," Changmin hollers, spread atop a large green puddle at the bottom of the steps. "If the ghosts don't get us, the fire will."

 

"It's fine," Yunho says calmly, picking himself up, drenched in sludge. "It'll keep the specters away for a few minutes."

 

The air clears.

 

Yoochun sits up with a pained groan. "Hopefully, long enough until we find whatever it is that trapped them here."

 

"Or summoned them," Changmin mumbles, quickly jumping to his feet as a small flame starts licking at his boots. He scans the stairwell behind Junsu. "Where's Jaejoong?"

 

Shaken, Junsu's still staring at the fire engulfing the otherwise ordinary dark office basement. "He was just behind me—"

 

Yoochun's running up the stairs like a banshee's on his ass, almost knocking Junsu out of the way.

 

The fire's dying out slowly, suffocating from the lack of oxygen as the air turns dense again, and Yunho preemptively sticks as many solar light magnets as he can, shouting, "Is he okay?"

 

There's no answer for a moment and Junsu turns around, terrified.

 

Yoochun's sitting with Jaejoong a few steps above, absentmindedly slapping magnets to the stairs with one hand and flicking Jaejoong's bloodied forehead with the other.

 

"Only bruised his ego," Yoochun shouts back and Yunho relaxes.

 

"And forehead," Jaejoong complains, wincing as he touches his fingertips to his head. "Shit. This better not scar."

 

Yoochun grins, but his face is pretty fucking pale. "Hey. Chicks dig scars."

 

"I'm sorry," Junsu says, fidgeting guiltily.

 

The air is almost back to being thick enough to touch, so Yunho pulls out a portable burner, practically out of nowhere, and sets it up near the puddle. The air around it visibly clears.

 

"You did good," he tells Junsu, loudly. "Now we know they're not fire-based. Good job, especially for your first time out."

 

Junsu shuffles his way to Yunho, head bowed.

 

Changmin smacks him upside the head then feigns innocence.

 

"We can set up a controlled burn," he says, "and make our way to wherever the little bastards are hiding."

 

Yunho nods, searching through his bag. He pulls out a small thing of gasoline and tosses it at Changmin.

 

Changmin nods and sets off.

 

"Disinfected the wound?" Yunho calls out.

 

"Ah. We didn't... take the, uh... the first aid kit with us," Yoochun mumbles sheepishly, helping Jaejoong down.

 

They join a scowling Yunho at the bottom of the stairs.

 

He examines the deep gash on Jaejoong's forehead, then sighs. "What's rule number three."

 

"No cats," Yoochun says, while Jaejoong simultaneously frowns in concentration, "Floss twice a day?"

 

Yunho flips them off and stalks after Changmin, following a trail of slow-burning, low flames. "Next fiscal quarter, remind me to fire you. I'll get a tax-break."

 

"Rule number three," Yoochun chuckles, slinging a friendly arm around Junsu's stiff shoulders, "is always bring everything."

 

"That's why Yunho's bag is so big," Jaejoong adds, affectionately ruffling Junsu's hair, "it's like an ambulance and a weaponshop had a bag-baby."

 

Junsu glances from one to the other, then grins to himself.

 

Gradually, they make their way to the center of the basement, wedged between a set of cracked cement pillars and a pile of broken office supplies.

 

A very large pentagram is sketched across the ground, burning bright red even without the controlled burn Changmin's perpetuating.

 

"So cliché," he sighs, sounding disappointed. He drops his bag to the ground and takes out a thick leather-bound notebook, flipping pages. "It's similar to the one from Case #28. Most likely earth-based."

 

Yunho gives a smug little grin, nodding.

 

"Probably a disgruntled office worker," Yoochun comments, digging through Yunho's bag and stealing some vials. "We can void it with an ice-arcane combo."

 

"Or we could just use the ghost trap," Jaejoong suggests, kneeling down to pull out a small vacuum-like device.

 

Changmin's towering over them both, ready to thwack either one with his notebook. "Or you could let me do _my_ job."

 

"Leaving your bathroom door ~accidentally open is not a job," Junsu says nonchalantly, then freaks out, eyes wide. "Did that sentence stay in my head?"

 

"No," Yoochun says, collapsing in a fit of giggles.

 

Cheeks pink, Changmin decides to ignore them. "Let's just get this over with."

 

"Yeah," Jaejoong grins, the flames reflecting off his face and making him look evil, "wouldn't want you to miss your shower."

 

Yunho kicks an old copy machine in warning.

 

Everyone grows serious.

 

"I'll start," Changmin says studiously. One hand holding the notebook open to his face, he sprinkles some salt at the center of the pentagram.

 

And the fire fucking dies out.

 

The basement is pitch-black again.

 

"Time to play," a tinny voice echoes and then there's a ghostly tentacle wrapping around Yunho and pinning him to the north point of the pentagram.

 

"What the fuck," Yoochun starts to say, but a wide, translucent spider-web cascades from the ceiling, restraining him against the south point.

 

"Shit, I was wrong," Changmin says, scrambling. "It's a spell feeding off of residual negative energy, and I think it needs sacrifices—" He takes a strong hit, hurtling to the ground.

 

"Junsu," Jaejoong says, somewhere nearby, "grab the—"

 

His body hits the floor.

 

Junsu freezes up.

 

The air is thick, spiked with oppressive heat and the scent of burnt metal.

 

Out of options and ideas, Junsu digs in his pocket, looking for the gadget he stole from Yunho. He aims it at the distorted apparitions heading for him.

 

Countless arms poke through the floor, reaching for him.

 

"Shit," he says, fumbling with the gadget. "Guys."

 

There is no reply except for the eerie wailing.

 

Bony fingers materialize out of the darkness, pressing down on his head. Hands wrap around his ankles, tugging him low. Smoke rises up from the cement.

 

Desperate, Junsu shrieks out, "You deserve to be happy!"

 

The noise dies down.

 

Panting, Junsu looks around. "You... are loved." He's half mortified, half petrified, and half out of his mind. "You have inner peace."

 

The smoke clears.

 

"You... deserve to succeed."

 

The fingers retract.

 

"You have faith in yourself," Junsu says, louder. He swings his arms at the dark, eyes shut, "You accept yourself completely. You forgive yourself."

 

Some long-forgotten fluorescent light flickers on.

 

The rest of his team is sprawled on the floor, each pinned to a point on the pentagram, immobile except for their mouths.

 

"Keep it up," Yunho breathes out, dazed. " _Everyone_."

 

"I don't know any of this self-affirmation bullshit," Yoochun protests.

 

The light shuts off.

 

"ONLY POSITIVE ENERGY," Yunho yells.

 

"Puppies!" Yoochun corrects himself. "Sunshine? Shit, fuck—"

 

A skeletal arm punches him in the gut.

 

"You forgive every person who has undermined your self-esteem!" Junsu says, directing his words at the cement pillars.

 

The light flickers on again.

 

Five minutes later, mouth dry and brain empty, Junsu finishes with an exhausted, "You are loved just as you are."

 

The last bit of noise evaporates.

 

The basement's actually pretty decent looking, minus the burnt cardboard boxes, ashes, red paint, spilled ink cartridges—

 

"That was really fuc—" Yoochun starts, then fearfully glances around. "— _freakin_ ' weird." He adds a cautionary, "Puppies."

 

Yunho takes a different approach and pulls Junsu into a bear hug, crushing him to his chest. "Good job, Junsu-yah!"

 

Changmin bristles a little, but pats Junsu's back with a delicate huff. "Not bad, I guess."

 

Yoochun and Jaejoong pile on, blood-stained hands leaving marks everywhere.

 

 

*

 

"What is the nature of your emergency."

 

"MY HOUSE IS ON FIRE," some guy screams into the phone.

 

"Because of ghosts?" Junsu asks, flipping through a magazine.

 

"No..." the guy hesitates. "I was making lasagna..."

 

"Please hang up and dial 119," Junsu yawns, closing the magazine and replacing the receiver.

 

"Good job," Yunho beams, arms crossed in proud approval.

 

Junsu grins despite himself.

 

Yunho looks around, puzzled. "Where _is_ everyone?"

 

"Yoochun's fixing one of the headlights," Junsu recites. "Jaejoong's ~helping." His lips quirk. "Changmin's in the shower."

 

Yunho pauses, looking torn.

 

"Weevils?"

 

Junsu laughs softly. "Nah. He bought a new shampoo and wanted to try it right away."

 

Yunho scowls, starting for the stairs with purpose. He stops awkwardly and turns around. "I'm only going in there because—"

 

Junsu leans back in his chair, face almost splitting in two. "The utility bill. I know."

 

The phone rings again and he picks it up with confidence.

 

"What is the nature of your emergency."


End file.
